The Children had awoken under the stars at Cuiviénen, two by two. Among them were Finwë and his twin-soul, Palcë... and also Míriel and her twin-soul, Aramë. Some of the twins were of opposite genders - Ingwë and his twin Indis.
In the days before Finwë Noldóran led his people on the journey to the Blessed Realm of Aman, the Elves lived without law; the only law was love as thou wilt. And so it was that they lay with whomever they chose, so long as there was a choice made by both involved - or more, sometimes loving in threes and fours and groups to explore different combinations of pleasure. Men did not just lay with women, and women with men, but also men with men, women with women. Most twins knew their twin intimately. There was no shame, only pride in the glory of their beautiful bodies, the fire of their passion that forged beautiful songs and structures and adornments.
Indis loved many, but she loved Finwë and Palcë most of all. She also greatly loved Aramë. She wanted to love Míriel the same way, who also loved them, but Míriel was frequently too busy with her weaving. The years passed and her feelings grew stronger, but it seemed pointless to speak of them.
A great danger came to their land, causing many to hide, and many to fall or be captured. Aramë was one of those killed, giving Míriel enough time to escape and go into hiding. When Indis learned of Aramë's death she was grieved sore, and fell into a sleep for many days. After she could sleep no longer, she spent much time walking - despite the ever-lurking threat, or perhaps because of it, as if she were wishing for death. Often, she went to the place where Aramë fell.
One day she saw that place was not standing alone, but a tree had been planted. Days later she found nine brightly colored ribbons hanging in the small tree, as if to celebrate the bright spirit that had bled and died there. Indis kept watch and her suspicions that it was Míriel who had woven the ribbons, were confirmed, as Míriel came with another gift - a wreath of flowers.
Indis stepped out of the shadows, and for a long moment the two women just looked at each other, saying nothing. Then Míriel simply reached out her hand. Indis took Míriel's hand, and they walked hand-in-hand to the tree.
"I loved her," Indis said, and immediately felt like an idiot for saying so; everyone knew that. "As you know," she added.
Míriel nodded. "I loved her too." She sighed.
"It feels like a piece of my heart was torn from me."
Míriel reached out, and turned Indis's body so they were face to face. "I cannot be Aramë for you, but I can try to weave a new piece of your heart, to patch it together."
Indis's lips parted with surprise. "I never knew you felt that way."
Míriel smiled. "You never asked." Then she put the flower wreath on Indis's head - now a flower crown. She took Indis's hands and kissed them.
For the first time, Indis embraced her, pulled her close, and their lips met, soft, warm and sweet.
"If you fear we dishonor her, she would have wanted me to look after you," Míriel said. "And if I should perish, someday, I would want you to look after Fin -"
Indis put a finger to Míriel's lips, tears burning her eyes. "Don't speak that way."
They kissed again. "I suppose it is only natural, in these times, to think the worst," Míriel said. "There is too much death. There will be more."
"Let us live so fiercely it feels we may never die," Indis said, and drew Míriel into another kiss... then down into the grass.
_
Before they left that place, Indis took two ribbons from the tree, leaving seven ribbons. Many years later, her grandson Fingon would wear those two ribbons in his braids.
And Arafinwë, Indis's youngest child and favorite son, was named in memory of her lost love.
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